EARLY in the morning, when the dawn is on the roofs, You hear his wheels come rolling, you hear his horse's hoofs; You hear the bottles clinking, and then he drives away: You yawn in bed, turn over, and begin another day! The old-time dairy maids are dear to every poet's heart -- I'd rather be the dairy @3man@1 and drive a little cart, And bustle round the village in the early morning blue, And hang my reins upon a hook, as I've seen Casey do. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ECHO [OR, ECHOES] by THOMAS MOORE AN ECHO FROM WILLOW-WOOD by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI THE HOUSE OF LIFE: 78. BODY'S BEAUTY by DANTE GABRIEL ROSSETTI THE MAY QUEEN by ALFRED TENNYSON IN AN OLD CEMETERY by LILLAH A. ASHLEY DANUBE AND THE EUXINE by WILLIAM EDMONSTOUNE AYTOUN DEAD LETTERS (T.L.H.) by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN SPARROWS SELF-DOMESTICATED IN TRINITY COLLEGE, CAMBRIDGE by VINCENT BOURNE |